Trenzalore
by IndigoMoose
Summary: A fix-it fic for the TV episodes "Name of the Doctor" and "Time of the Doctor". Clara Oswald made an amazing sacrifice on the fields of Trenzalore. This story attempts to high-light that. And, instead of creating a universe unraveling paradox, the Doctor actually accepts his own death.
1. Chapter 1

In a poorly lit workshop, two men were hunched over cluttered counters, working on different projects. An alarm went off causing both men to look up. "Something wrong?" One asked as the other walked over to a monitor. The monitor showed a row of plain pale colored cylinders. "It's the repair shop. What kind of idiot would try and steal a faulty TARDIS?"

The idiot on the monitor was an older man escorting a young girl towards one of the cylinders. A white haired gentleman with a placid face. He paused when he heard a young woman's voice say, "Doctor?"

Clara Oswald tried to collect her thoughts. She was falling, falling like Alice down the rabbit hole, yet she was encircled by flames. She thought to herself, "I don't know where I am. It's like I'm breaking into a million pieces. And there's only one thing I remember… I have to save the Doctor." She kept recalling moments, but she couldn't tell if they were hazy memories or vivid dreams.  
"He always looks different...but I always know it's him. Sometimes I think I'm everywhere at once."  
Clara saw each of the Doctor's incarnations, she kept falling and landing on her feet in a new place, with a new Doctor and her own outfit changing as well. Was is more than just her clothes that were changing?  
"I am calling to him, but he never hears me," Clara thought. Then a she saw herself as a barmaid in Victorian London. "Almost never," she corrected herself.  
Clara remembered the story her mother had told so often. "I blew into this world on a leaf," Clara supposed. A leaf blew loose from a tree and covered her father's face, causing him to stagger into the road in front of an oncoming car. He pulled the leaf away and saw the face of his rescuer, Clara's mother. "I'm still blowing," Clara murmured. "I don't think I'll ever land." Then the young woman realized something. "I'm Clara Oswald, I'm the impossible girl, I am here to save The Doctor."

* * *

In a damp and dim prison in London in the year 1893, an inmate chanted a poem about the Whisper Men in a grisly voice. He squatted on the floor, the rocking of his body made the chains of his wrist cuffs rattle.

He realized someone was standing outside his cell at the bars. He turned and pointed, "One word from you could save me from the rope."

His visitor was a woman in a heavy black veil. "Then you may rely on my silence," she said.

The inmate bargained for his life, saying he had valuable information about the Doctor. "The Doctor has a secret, you know."

"He has many," Madam Vastra responded.

"He has one he will take to the grave," said the man as he grabbed a hold of the prison bars. "And it is discovered."

When Madam Vastra returned home, she told Jenny the news.

"We can't let that terrible man live," said Jenny.

The Silurian pushed back her veil. "He lives till I understand what he told me. We're going to need a conference call. I'll send out the invitations, you fetch the candles."

"Yes, ma'am!" Jenny replied. She went to hang to coat in the hall. She heard strange whisperings and paused and looks towards the window. Before she could be sure the ghostly figure was real, Vastra stood in front of her, blocking the view. "Where's Strax got to?"

"The usual. It's his weekend off."

"I wish he had never discovered that place!"

* * *

Strax was in the city of Glasgow, enjoying a brawl with one of the burly locals. Their fight was interrupted by a small boy. "Excuse me... Mr Strax?"

"What is it, girl? Can't you see I'm trying to crush the brains of this stinking primitive?" He looked to the man, "Sorry about this."

The boy held out a piece of paper. "It's a telegram, sir. Very urgent!"

The Sontaran took the telegram and read. He rolled his eyes, "Conference call!" He handed the paper back to the boy and turned to the man. "Sorry, Archie. I'm going to have to ask you to render me unconscious."

"Fine," said the man, hefting his iron pot like a hammer.

"Better use this," Strax handed Archie his shovel. "It might take a while."

Strax blacked out after a single hit on the head.

* * *

Madam Vastra's parlor was warm and elegant. She seated herself at a multi-sided table as Jenny lit a candle positioned in the center. Jenny chose a chair on a side adjacent to Vastra. Vastra put her hand on Jenny's. "Sleep well, my love."

"You too," said Jenny. They both inhaled deeply and began to drift off.

The parlor changed, the walls were covered in moving shapes and the lights gently shifted between pastel hues. Nothing was completely in focus. "Oh, I like the new set up," Jenny said.

"I was getting a little bored of the Taj Mahal." Vastra smiled as a tea tray appeared on the table. "The tea should be superb, it's drawn from one of my favorite memories." As she poured, they heard a loud thud. "Strax! Good of you to join us," Vastra said without looking up.

"It better be important! I was in the middle of destroying some very pleasant primitives."

"I apologize for the interruption, but there is urgent news concerning the Doctor."

"Who else is coming?" the Sontaran asked as he glanced about the table and counted two still empty chairs.

Vastra answered, "The women."

* * *

In a clean and modern kitchen, Clara Oswald was gathering ingredients. The two school children doing their homework at the breakfast table gave a small moan. "Oh, no," said the girl. "You're going to try and make a soufflé again, aren't you?"

Clara answered as she whisked the batter, "My mum's soufflé, yeah. This time I'll get it right. This time I will be Soufflé Girl!"

"How can it be your Mum's soufflé, if you're making it?" asked the boy.

"Because, Artie, like my mum always said - the soufflé isn't the soufflé, the soufflé is the recipe!"

The girl looked over her shoulder and asked, "Was your mum deep on puddings?"

"She was a great woman," Clara responded. She continued to whisk and sift through the mail on the kitchen counter. She saw a strangely formal little envelope addressed to her. She snatched it up.

The envelope was sealed with wax and bore the note "Open When Alone" on the back.

When Clara was alone in her room, a small bedroom made-up for a live-in nanny, she began to read the letter. She paced back and forth as she read it, wondering who it could be from. It was written in fancy script and the paper seemed quite old.

It read, "My dearest Clara... The Doctor entrusted me with your contact details, in the event of an emergency, and I fear one has now arisen. Assuming this letter will have reached you, as planned, on April 10th 2013, please find and light the enclosed candle."

Clara reached into the envelope and pulled out a small candle. She continued to read, "It will release a soporific which will induce a trance state, enabling direct communication across the years."

Clara was creeped out and quickly dropped the candle. She wiped her hand off on her jumper and went back to reading. "However, as I realize you have no reason to trust this letter, I have taken the liberty of embedding the same soporific into the fabric of the paper you are now holding. Speak soon!"

Clara felt her knees grow weak and her head fell forward.

But instead of hitting the floor, she fell into a dining room chair, in a soothing yet psychedelic parlor.

"So glad you could make it," said a lizard woman as she passed Clara a cup of tea. Clara accepted the cup and asked, "Where am I?"

Another woman, with a youthful face and a tight bun answered, "Exactly where you were - but sleeping."

"Time travel has always been possible in dreams," the lizard lady explained. "We are awaiting only one more participant."

"Oh, no," said a large humanoid potato. "Not the one with the gigantic head?"

"It's hair, Strax."

"Hair!" Strax scoffed. Just then, an older woman with a wild mane of curls appeared in her chair with a puff of smoke, like a magician. She greeted the hostess, "Madame Vastra!"

"Professor! Help yourself to some tea."

"Why, thank you," the Professor said, holding up a flute of champagne.

"How'd you do that?" Jenny wondered.

The woman smirked. "Disgracefully." She sipped the champagne and looked at Clara expectantly.

"Ah. Perhaps you two haven't met. This is the Doctor's companion," Vastra said. "Ah...that is, his current...traveling... assistant."

"Assistant?" Clara said with a smirk.

Strax leaned over to Vastra, "Have you gone a darker green?"

Vastra concluded the introduction, "Clara Oswald."

"Professor River Song," said the woman with wild hair. "The Doctor might have mentioned me."

"Oh, yeah, of course he has. Professor Song. Sorry, it's just I never realized you were a woman."

Strax tried to make things less awkward, "Well, neither did I!"

River Song maintained an excellent poker face, but she was hurt and surprised that the Doctor hadn't mentioned her more than in passing.

Vastra set down her tea cup. "Perhaps we should get down to the business at hand."

"That might be good, dear, yes," said Jenny.

Vastra touched the air above the center of the table and a projection appeared of an ugly man. "Clarence DeMarco: Murderer, under sentence of death. He offered us this... in exchange for his life." She waved her hand through the projection and it changed.

River Song recognized the image. "Space time coordinates."

"This, Mr DeMarco claims, is the location of the Doctor's greatest secret."

Clara asked, "Which is...?"

"We don't know," said Jenny. "It's a secret!"

The lizard lady spoke with an air of authority. "The Doctor does not discuss his secrets with anyone, my dear. If you're still entertaining the idea that you are an exception to this rule, ask yourself one question. What is his name?"

There was a stiff silence.

"Well, I know it," said River.

"What, you know his name? He told you?" said Clara in disbelief.

"It's part of a Gallifreyan ritual," River said with a shrug.

"So you're a... friend of his, then?"

"A little more than a friend... a long time ago."

Vastra asked, "He's still never contacted you?"

River shook her head. "He doesn't like endings." River Song changed the subject. "So what else did this DeMarco tell you? He didn't buy his life with some co-ordinates. How did he prove their value?"

"One word, only," Vastra replied.

"What word?"

"One I'd heard in connection with the Doctor before: Trenzalore."

River drew in her breath. "How exactly did he describe what he was giving you?"

Madam Vastra swiped her hand through the projection and the image returned to DeMarco's face. The image spoke, "The Doctor has a secret, you know. He has one he will take to the grave. And it is discovered."

"You misunderstood," River said in a small voice.

Jenny's face became pale. "Ma'am, I'm sorry - I just realized, I forgot to lock the doors."

"It doesn't matter Jenny" said Vastra. She turned back to River, "What misunderstanding? Tell me!"

Jenny persisted, "No, ma'am, please. I should've locked up before we went into the trance."

Vastra began to reprimand her, but stopped when she saw Jenny was clearly terrified. "Someone's broken in," Jenny said in a panicked voice. "Someone's with us. I can hear them."

"Jenny, are you all right?" Vastra leaned towards her companion.

"Sorry, ma'am, so sorry, so sorry, so sorry... I think I've been murdered." A single tear rolled down Jenny's cheek.

In London in 1893, Jenny was lying on the parlor floor on her back as three figures in black suits stood around her. In the dreamscape, Jenny began to fade. Strax and Madam Vastra shouted at her, but she did not respond.

River Song spoke sternly, "You're under attack. You must wake up now, just wake up! Do it!" She stood and violently struck Vastra across the face.

Vastra woke with her face on the floor, she could see the black shoes of the men DeMarco had been muttering about. She stood and demanded answers. The creatures turned to Vastra, their faces were like waxy mannequins. The opened their black lips and hissed through jagged teeth.

"You too, Strax," River shouted. "Wake up now!" She threw her glass of champagne at him.

Strax woke up on a floor covered in saw-dust and glass shards. He sat up and more of the Whisper Men surrounded him.

When only River and Clara were left, the Whisper Men invaded the dreamscape. They repeatedly whispered, "Tell the Doctor. Tell the Doctor."

"Tell him what?" Clara asked, showing more confusion than fear.

The projection over the table showed the face of Dr. Simeon, the host of the Great Intelligence. The projection spoke, "His friends are lost for evermore... Unless he goes to Trenzalore."

"No! You can't say that. He can't go there, you know he can't!" River insisted.

Just then, Clara heard the Doctor's voice. He was calling out, "Angie? Artie?" … the two kids in her charge.

* * *

Clara awoke with River's words racing through her mind, "The Doctor can never go to Trenzalore!"

Clara hurried down the stairs to find the Doctor blindfolded waving his arms in front of him.

"Doctor?"

"Ha, Clara! How are you, don't worry. Everything's under control."

"What are you doing?"

"Oh, um, Mr. Maitland went next door, so I said I'd look after the kids. They wanted to go to the cinema, but I said no, I said no - not until you wake up, I was very firm."

Clara nodded quickly. "At which point, they suggested Blind Man's Bluff."

"Yes. Where are they?"

Clara stepped up to the Doctor and removed the blindfold. "At the cinema," she said quietly.

"The little...Zygons!" He looked down at Clara. Puzzled by her expression, he asked, "What's wrong?"

Clara told the Doctor the strange dream she had had. After hearing it, the Doctor sat on the sofa. Clara made tea. As she poured the tea at the kitchen table, she asked, "So who was she? The lady with the funny name and the space hair."

The Doctor continued to look straight ahead. "An old... friend of mine."

"What, like an ex?"

"Yes. An ex. River asked Vastra for the exact words. What were they?"

Clara walked toward the sofa with a tea cup in each hand. "The Doctor has a secret he will take to the grave. It is discovered." Clara stood in front of the Doctor and saw the extreme sadness in his eyes. He seemed on the verge of tears. "Doctor?"

The Doctor's voice began to shake, "And it was Trenzalore? Definitely Trenzalore?"

"Yeah."

The Doctor apologized and quickly left the house. Clara hurried after him.  
She found him sitting on the storage units underneath the TARDIS console. The room was dark except for the bright blue light emanating from the central column. Clara stood on the steps with her arms crossed. "Well?"

"Trenzalore. I've heard the name, of course. Dorium mentioned it, a few others." He stood and waved his sonic screwdriver amid the overhead cables. "Always suspected what it was, never wanted to find out myself." He tucked the screwdriver back into his coat pocket. "River would know, though...River always knew." He pulled down a cable. "Right, come here, give me your hand." Clara did so without question. "Now. The coordinates you saw will still be in your memory. I'm linking you into the TARDIS telepathic circuit, won't hurt a bit." He jabbed the end of the cable into her head. When Clara gave a shout of pain, the Doctor said, "I lied."

"OK. What is Trenzalore? Is it your big secret?" Clara asked.

"No."

"OK, what then?"

The Doctor explained, "When you are a time traveler, there is one place you must never go. One place in all of space and time you must never, ever find yourself."

"Where?"

The Doctor became irritated. "You didn't listen, did you? You lot never do, that's the problem!" He repeated the words, "The Doctor has a secret he will take to the grave. It is discovered... He wasn't talking about my secret. No, no, no, that's not what's been found. He was talking about my… grave. Trenzalore is where I'm buried." He began to walk up the steps. Clara trotted after him.

The Doctor decided he must save Jenny, Vastra, and Strax even though it meant doing something utterly taboo. He glanced over at Clara. "No point in telling you this is too dangerous."

"None at all. How can we save them?"

The Doctor straightened. "Apparently... by breaking into my own tomb!" He threw a lever.


	2. Chapter 2

The TARDIS shuddered and jerked, throwing the travelers off-balance. The Doctor was not surprised. He was coming dangerously close to crossing his own time line in the biggest way possible. It was no wonder that the sentient machine was against it. They hurtled through space, sparks flying all around the console room. One final jolt hurtled the Doctor and Clara into the railing. "Now what?" Clara gasped, when all seemed still.

"She doesn't want to land. She's shut down."

"So we're not there," Clara concluded.

The Doctor pulled on a control lever in frustration. "We must be close; we're off by a single vector." He went over to the main doors and opened them. The looked down upon a barren planet covered in ash. "OK. So that's where I end up."

Clara joined him in the doorway. "That's where you are buried, not where you die… not necessarily… right?"

"A whole planet full of graveyards and crematoriums," the Doctor said.

Clara asked, "How are we going to find yours?"

The Doctor strode back into the TARDIS. "Well, according to the space-time coordinates you provided, we are directly above it."

"So. How do we get down there?" Clara asked, still gazing at the planet below. "Jump?"

"Don't be silly! We fall." He pulled Clara back in and closed the door. "She's turned off practically everything, except the anti-gravs. That's what I'm turning off." He pointed his sonic screwdriver at the console. Clara shrieked as the TARDIS plummeted towards the planet.

They crash landed in a graveyard densely packed with stone slabs, tombs and monuments of various shapes and sizes. In the sky, lightning flashed and thunder rumbled. "You OK?" Clara asked. "Visiting your own grave… anyone would be scared."

"It's more than that. I'm a time traveler. I've probably time-traveled more than any one of my people."

"Meaning?"

"Meaning... my grave is potentially the most dangerous place in the universe. Shall we?"

Clara closed the TARDIS door behind her and they began to walk a narrow path. "So many different grave stones. Are lots time lords buried here?" Clara asked.

The Doctor shrugged. "I doubt it. Time Lords don't leave behind normal bodies that easily decompose in a pit."

"How exactly are we going to find yours?" Clara murmured, glancing at each stone they passed. The Doctor plodded along solidly, his eyes more on his own feet than anything else.

They turn a corner and they see something in the distance that fills Clara with awe. Alone atop a hill is a tremendous blue police box.

Clara tilted her head. "Well. Bright side: it's a helluva monument."

The Doctor grumbled, "What else would they bury me in?" and began trudging towards the hill.  
Clara started to follow, but stopped when she heard someone calling her name. She turned to see River Song.  
"Don't speak, don't say my name," River Song instructed. "He can't see or hear me, only you can. We're mentally linked, it's the conference call. I kept the line open."

The Doctor walked quickly towards Clara. "Who are you talking to? We need to get..." he stopped and stared in River's direction. "River?"

At first, Clara thought perhaps River Song was wrong, that the Doctor could see her, but then she noticed the tombstone with River Song's name. The Doctor was thoughtfully running his fingers over the engraving.

"That can't be right," said Clara. "She's not dead."

"Oh, she's dead, I'm afraid. She's been dead for a very long time."

River shrugged, "Yeah, should probably have mentioned that… never the right time."

Clara protested, "But I met her!"

The Doctor responded, "Long story. But her grave can't be here."

Clara heard whisperings and turned to see four Whisper Men approaching. She called to the Doctor. He reached into his inner jacket pocket and pulled out the sonic screwdriver and pointed it at them. The Whisper Men continued to approach.

River murmured to Clara, "If it's not my gravestone, then what is it?"

Clara quickly asked, "What do you think the gravestone really is?"

The Doctor spared Clara a quick glance, "The gravestone?"

"Maybe it's a false grave," said River.

"Maybe it's a false grave," Clara repeated.

"Maybe it's a secret entrance to the tomb," said River.

"Maybe it's a secret entrance to the tomb!" Clara exclaimed.

"Yes, of course, makes sense." The Doctor turned and used his sonic screwdriver on the gravestone. "They'd never have buried my wife out here!"

"Your what?"

The ground opened underneath them and they fell. The Whisper Men gathered to peer down the hole. Clara could hear them whisper, "The man who lies will lie no more, when this man lies at Trenzalore."

* * *

Vastra and Strax awoke inside the blue police box hull of the monument. Jenny was there, too, lying prostrate on the dirt floor. She had experienced a shock-induced heart attack. Fortunately, Strax's hand-held device was able to revive her.

"The heart is a relatively simple thing," Strax said as he returned the life-saving device to his pocket.

"I have not found it so," said Vastra, helping Jenny to stand.

Just then, the Whisper Men began to approach. Behind them was the Great Intelligence, wearing the face of Dr. Simeon. "I see you have repaired your pet," the man said with a sneer. "No matter, I was only attracting your attention. I presume I have it."

Vastra stood ready to fight. "Dr. Simeon… this is not possible."

"And yet here we are, meeting again, so very far from home."

Jenny whispered to Vastra, "But he died... you told me."

Vastra answered loud enough for all to hear, "Simeon died, but the creature that possessed him lived on. I take it I am now talking to the Great Intelligence."

The man in a top hat and fur lined coat began to pace about the room. "Welcome to the final resting place of the cruel tyrant. Of the slaughterer of the ten billion and the vessel of the final darkness. Welcome to the tomb of the Doctor."

* * *

Clara walked through a doorway into a dark tunnel lined with invading roots. The Doctor was leading the way with a lighted torch.

"Where are we?" Clara asked.

"Catacombs," the Doctor answered.

"Fun places, catacombs," River said.

"So how come I met your dead wife?"

"Well, you know how it is when you lose someone close to you. I sort of made a back-up."

"I died saving him," River explained. Clara looked over her shoulder at River Song. She seemed to flicker as she spoke. "He didn't know me that well at the time, just saving people like he always does. He saved my consciousness to a database in the biggest library in the universe. Left me like a book on a shelf. Didn't even say goodbye. He doesn't like endings."

A Whisper Man walked right through River, its hand reaching for Clara. The Doctor shouted for his companion to run, grabbing her hand and pulling her along.

* * *

The Great Intelligence looked out on the graveyard from the doorway of the tomb. "I was told his end was a minor skirmish by the Doctor's blood-soaked standards; not exactly the Time War, but enough to finish him."

"Blood-soaked?" Jenny scoffed.

"The Doctor has been many things, but never blood-soaked," Vastra insisted.

"Tell that to the leader of the Sycorax. Or Solomon the trader, or the Cybermen, or the Daleks. The Doctor lives his life in darker hues, day upon day, and he will have other names before the end. The Storm. The Beast. The Valeyard."

The Silurian interrupted. "Even if any of this were true, which I take the liberty of doubting, how did you come by this information?"

"I _am_ information," the villain responded.

"You were a mind without a body, last time we met," said Jenny.

"And you were supposed to stay that way," Vastra snarled.

"Alas... I did." The Dr. Simeon reached his left hand up to his cheek and peeled away the lower jaw to reveal nothing within. The right hand lifted the top hat and his clothes fell to the ground. One of the Whisper Men stepped forward and its face quickly morphed into that of Dr. Simeon. "As you can see."

* * *

After a brief skirmish and narrow escape from the Whisper Men, the Doctor and Clara were near the center of the tomb. They continued on through the corridors and up stairs. Clara was feeling dizzy and out of breath, but it wasn't from all the running they had been doing. She was having visions again, she couldn't recall if they were hazy memories or vivid dreams. She remembered wandering down corridors, looking for the center of the TARDIS.

The Doctor realized Clara was lagging behind. He ran to catch her as she staggered. "We must be really close now. It's okay Clara, you're fine."

"Have we… have we done this before?" Clara asked. She had a flashing memory. "We have! We have done this before, climbing through a wrecked TARDIS. You said things, things I can't quite remember."

"We can't do this now," said the Doctor.

Clara tried to walk on her own, but collapsed with another memory, more vivid than before. It was the Doctor, his eleventh face, yelling at her, "Why do I keep meeting you? The Dalek Asylum; there was a girl in a shipwreck and she died saving my life. And she was you. In Victorian London there was a governess who was really a barmaid... And she was you!" Clara was having visions within visions. She tried to shake away the images of herself in a waitress outfit running through a jungle and then another of being cooked by the Eye of Harmony.

Clara gasped when the visions ceased and she was back in the present. The Doctor was pulling her arm. "Clara, what's wrong?"

Clara twisted out of his grasp. "What did you mean, you keep meeting me? You said I died! How could I die?"

"That's not a conversation you should even remember..."

"What do you mean I died?" she shouted.

They heard the ominous whispers, "The girl who died, he tried to save. She'll die again inside his grave."

The Doctor took Clara's hand and told her to run.

* * *

The Great Intelligence had lead the Doctor's friends to the main doors of the tomb's inner sanctum. He stood with his back to them, facing the locked doors. "The doors require a key. The key is a word. And the word... is the Doctor's."

"Here I am, late to my own funeral," the Doctor announced. The Great Intelligence turned and saw the Doctor standing in front, with Clara, Strax, Vastra, and Jenny standing shoulder to shoulder behind him. "Glad to see you could make it, Jenny," the Doctor said.

"Open the door, Doctor. Speak, and open your tomb."

"No."

"Because you know what's in there?"

"I will not open those doors."

"The key is a word lost to time. A secret hidden in the deepest shadow and known to you alone. The answer to a question!"

The Doctor marched up to the Great Intelligence. "I will not open my tomb."

The being with Simeon's face said, "Doctor, what is your name?"

The Doctor did not reply. The Intelligence gripped the Doctor's face with an intimidating black glove. The Doctor grabbed the man's wrist and pulled the hand away. The Great Intelligence stepped around the Doctor and addressed his minions. "The Doctor's friends… stop their hearts."

The Whisper Men hissed. Strax called out, "Madam, boys, combat formation! They are unarmed!"

Jenny protested, "So are we!"

"Do not divulge our military secrets!" Strax chastised.

The Whisper Men advanced, each with a hand outstretched. The Doctor begged the Great Intelligence to stop. The Great Intelligence demanded that the Doctor reveal his name. One Whisper Man came close enough to dive its hand into Strax's chest.

"Leave him alone, let him be," the Doctor cried.

"Don't worry, sir, I think I've got him rattled," Strax shouted.

Then Clara was crying out in pain, "Doctor! Doctor!"

"Doctor who?" the Great Intelligence demanded.

"Please!" the Doctor began to beg, but then stopped. He could hear the doors of the tomb opening. The Whisper Men released their victims.

"Why did you open the door, sir?" asked Strax. "I had them on the run!"

"I didn't do it," the Doctor said dumbfounded. "I didn't say my name."

"No, but I did." River stood by the doors and spoke as if someone other than Clara could see her.

The Doctor swallowed hard, then turned around to check on the others and help them stand. Once he was sure everyone was fine, he approached the villain. "Now then, Dr. Simeon. Or Mr. G. Intelligence, whatever I call you... Do you know what's in there?"

"For me, peace at last. For you, pain everlasting. Won't you invite us in?" He stepped aside.


	3. Chapter 3

The Doctor sighed deeply before setting his jaw and striding over to the door. He pushed the doors open the reveal what looked like the console room, but there were vines growing over the domed walls and, in the center, where the console would be, was a tower of light. It was a knotted mess of different glowing strands rotating around each other.

"What's that?" Clara asked.

"What were you expecting? A body? Bodies are boring, I've had loads of 'em. That's not what my tomb is for."

"But what is the light?" Vastra asked.

"It's beautiful," Jenny said.

"Should I destroy it?" asked Strax.

"Shut up, Strax," Vastra whispered.

Clara asked the Doctor to explain.

"The tracks of my tears," the Doctor answered.

"Less poetry, Doctor. Just tell them," the Great Intelligence said snidely.

"Time travel is... damage. Most beings only travel one direction in the fourth dimension… My life is like a giant snag in the fabric of reality. That is my life thread which became a more tangled mess with every adventure. My path through time and space, from Gallifrey to Trenzalore."

In case his companions needed more proof, he pointed his sonic screwdriver at the light. Voices from each of the Doctor's incarnations were heard.

"Have you ever thought what it's like to be wanderers in the fourth dimension?… Cybermen, they're still in the nursery compared to us… There are corners of the universe that have bred the most dangerous things… Do I have the right? … You were fantastic! Absolutely fantastic!… I'm the Doctor, I'm from Gallifrey, in the constellation of Kasterborous… Hello, Stonehenge! ..."

"My own personal time tunnel, all the days, even the ones that... I, er, even the ones that I haven't lived yet." The Doctor felt himself suddenly grow weak and he collapsed to the floor. Clara ran and knelt beside him.

The Doctor shook his head, "No. No. Which is why I shouldn't be here. The paradox is... it's very bad."

The Great Intelligence started to moving towards the light.

"No. What are you doing? Somebody stop him!" the Doctor cried.

"The Doctor's life is an open wound. And an open wound can be entered."

The Doctor cautioned, "No, it would destroy you."

"Not at all. It will kill me. It will destroy you. I can rewrite your every living moment. I can turn every one of your victories into defeats. Poison every friendship. Deliver pain to your every breath."

"It would burn you up. Once you go through, you can't come back. You'll be scattered along my timeline, like confetti."

"It matters not, Doctor. You thwarted me and my brethren at every turn. Now, you will give me peace, as I take my revenge on every second of your life! Goodbye... Goodbye, Doctor!" The Great Intelligence stepped backwards into the column of light and screamed. The Whisper Men disappeared as the body of Dr. Simeon was consumed by the twisted threads of the Doctor's life.

On the floor, the Doctor hollered and convulsed.

"What's wrong with him? What's happening?" Clara cried.

Vastra said, "He's being rewritten! Simeon is attacking his entire timeline. He's dying all at once. The Dalek Asylum. Androzani."

Clara felt another vision. "What did you say? Did you say the Dalek Asylum?"

"Now he's dying in London, with us."

The Doctor writhed on the floor as he cried in pain. The light of his timeline turned from a brilliant white to a dark red.

Vastra moaned, "Oh, dear Goddess! A universe without the Doctor; there will be consequences." She turned to leave the tomb. "Jenny, with me." Jenny obeyed and followed.

Clara stayed by the Doctor's side. "The Dalek Asylum...you said it was me that saved you. How? Victorian London. How? How could I have been in Victorian London?"

The Doctor was in too much pain to make a coherent answer.

Outside the tomb, Madam Vastra was scanning for local star systems.

Vastra explained to Jenny and Strax, "The Doctor's timeline has been corrupted. Think how many lives that man has influenced, how many worlds he has saved. He saved your life when we met." She turned to look at Jenny, but Jenny had vanished. The Silurian regain to scream and wail, punching buttons on her device.

Strax began to snarl. "Reptile scum!" he said and began to swing at Vastra with a long pipe. She tried to convince him that they were comrades, but he continued to attack. Vastra fired her weapon in self-defense and Strax disappeared.

* * *

Clara stared into the swirling red light. "I have to go in there," she decided.

"Please. Please, no..." the Doctor said weakly.

"But this is what I've already done. You've already seen me do it. I'm the Impossible Girl, and this is why. I've figured it out."

River appeared to her. "Whatever you're thinking of doing... don't."

"If I step in there... what happens?"

"The time winds will tear you into a hundred pieces. A hundred versions of you, living and dying all over time and space. Like... echoes."

"But the echoes could save the Doctor, right?"

"But they won't be you, the real you will die. They'll just be copies."

"Like you are a copy?" Clara said tersely. Then she brightened. "There is no real me; no singular real me that is. And all those copies will be real enough. It's like my mum said, the souffle isn't the souffle, the souffle is the recipe." She looked down at the suffering Time Lord and caressed his face. "It's the only way to save him, isn't it?"

Madam Vastra returned with a dismal report, "The stars are going out. And Jenny and Strax are dead. There must be something we can do."

Clara stood and straightened her shoulders. "Well, how about that? I'm Souffle Girl after all."

The Doctor croaked, "No… please..."

"If this works, get out of here as fast as you can. And spare me a thought now and then," Clara said. Then she smiled because all her visions were finally making sense. She turned to the Doctor, "In fact, you know what? Run. Run, you clever boy. And remember me."

She dove into the light, in spite of the Doctor's protests.

* * *

Clara fell through the strange tunnel of flame, now knowing that it was the Doctor's personal timeline. She felt herself disintegrating. "I don't know exactly where I am," she thought.

She remembered being a small child, looking out dirty windows in 17th century England.

"It's like I've lived a thousand lives in a thousand places."

She recalled leading a double life, governess by day, barmaid by night. Suddenly, she remembered being a child again, looking out a giant window, but it was an apartment window and before her was the skyline of a glittering city.

"I'm born, I live, I die," Clara told herself. "And always, there's the Doctor."

Clara looked down to see she was wearing 1970s clothes, and looked up to see the Third Doctor speed past in a yellow automobile. Then the Second Doctor, wearing a shaggy fur coat rushed by her from another direction, knocking into her. Clara looked at her feet to regain her balance, and saw she was wearing dancing shoes. She was a guest at a costume party for Lord Cranleigh, watching the Fifth Doctor try to solve a murder.

"He hardly ever hears me," Clara thought, "But I've always been there… Right from the very beginning."

The flashes of visions give way to a clear memory. Clara was a parking lot attendant at a time-traveling capsule repair shop. "Doctor?" she called out to an elderly-looking man.

"Yes, what is it? What do you want?" he answered in a hurry.

"Sorry. But you're about to make a very big mistake. Don't steal that one, steal this one," she leaned against one of the white cylinders. "The navigation system's knackered, and the chameleon circuit is about to bust, but you'll have much more fun."

Clara closed her eyes as she continued to fall. "I've been there right from the day he started running," she said to herself. "So run, you clever boy… and remember me."

* * *

Back on Trenzalore, the Doctor's timeline had returned to its normal white glow. The deaths of Strax and Jenny had been undone. The trio stood in a huddle, arguing. Strax sputtered, "It was an unprovoked and violent attack, but that's no excuse..."

"We are all restored, that is all that matters now," Vastra said calmly.

"We are not all restored!" the Doctor said, glaring at the timestream.

For a moment, River forgot that only Clara could see her. "You can't go in there. It's your own time stream, for God's sake!"

The Doctor said to his friends, "I have to get her back."

"But how?" Jenny asked.

"She is scattered along your timeline," Vastra said. "You'll see her again."

"But it won't be her, it will just be an echo, a copy. It won't be the real Clara."

"Do you have something against cloning?" Strax asked defensively.

"And how will you recognize the real Clara?" Jenny asked.

Vastra nodded. "How indeed? Is she the barmaid from London or the tech-genious Dalek prisoner? Or perhaps she is the nanny who won't quit trying to make souffle."

The Doctor tugged on his jacket and straightened his tie. "Now... if I don't come back - and I might not… go to the TARDIS. The fast return protocols should be on, she'll take you home, then shut herself down."

River Song stepped forward. "Don't do it… Please hear me and don't do it. Let her sacrifice mean something. For God's sake, be sensible!" She raised her hand to slap the Doctor, but he turned and grabbed her wrist. "How? How are you even doing that?" stammered River. "I'm not really here."

"You are mentally linked to Clara, and now she is… somehow linked to me."

"Then why didn't you speak to me before now?"

"I thought it would hurt too much."

"I believe I could have coped!"

The Doctor took a step closer to his wife. "No. I thought it would hurt me. And I was right." He pulled River's face close to his own and they shared a long kiss.  
When the Doctor pulled away, he said, "Since nobody else in this room can see you, God knows how that looked." He glanced over his shoulder to see Strax, Vastra, and Jenny sharing puzzled looks.

The Doctor turned back to River. "There is a time to live and a time to sleep. You are an echo, River, like Clara… Like all of us, in the end. My fault, I know, but you should've faded by now."

"It's hard to leave when you haven't said goodbye."

"Then tell me, because I don't know, how do I say it?"

River gave a small, sad smile. "There's only one way I would accept. If you ever loved me... say it like you're going to come back."

The Doctor took a step back. "Well then," he said, trying to sound nonchalant, "See you around, Professor River Song."

"Till the next time, Doctor."

"Don't wait up."

"Oh, there's one more thing," River said.

The Doctor gave a short laugh. "Isn't there always?"

"I was mentally linked with Clara, on a conference call this whole time. Perhaps you would like to join us?"

"OK. How?"

River Song grinned and nodded towards Jenny and Vastra. "Goodbye, sweetie," she said as she faded away.

* * *

Clara's thoughts reached out to River Song. "I don't know where I am. I don't know where I'm going, or where I've been."

Clara was a mathematician on the planet Logopolis. She was a jury member watching the Sixth Doctor's trial. "I came here to save the Doctor, but the Doctor is safe now. I'm the Impossible Girl and my story is done."

"Your story is not done!" Clara heard River Song's voice cutting through the visions. "True, one story is done, but you have so many stories! So many ways to save the Doctor. Some times that means plunging to your death, but so much more often it means just living your life, letting the ripples have their effect."

Clara saw herself as a proud Scottish woman encouraging the piper Jamie McCrimmon to join the battle. She sat down and became a business executive at H C Clements in London, telling someone on the phone they ought to hire Donna Noble, the best temp in Chiswick. She spun around and was a game show contestant on Station 5, bravely stepping forward when Captain Jack Harkness asked for volunteers.

Clara finally landed on mist-shrouded ground. She sat up quickly and looks around in the dim light.

"Doctor?" Clara called out. "Doctor!" She curled up into a ball. "Where am I now?" she sobbed.

"Clara..." she heard a soothing voice and lifted her head. "You can hear me, I know you can."

"I can't see you," Clara replied.

"I'm everywhere. You're inside my time stream." Clara stood as she saw the various incarnations of the Doctor begin to walk past her.

She brightened. "I can see you! All your different faces, they're here."

"Those are my ghosts. My past. Every good day, every bad day." Each ghost hurried past, except one that walked confidently towards her. It was the Doctor she knew best, the one in the bow-tie. "I have these days thanks to my companions… thanks to you." The Doctor and Clara embraced.

Then Clara pulled back, shaking her head.

"I'm not even sure who I am! I've done it. I'm no longer your Impossible Girl."

"You never were mine, and I'm sorry for making you think so. I'm bringing you something… not from my past, from yours. Look up. Look." A leaf slowly drifted down from above. The Doctor continued, "That is you, Clara. Everything you were or will be. Take it." Clara took hold of the leaf. "You blew into the world on this leaf. Hold tight. It will take you home."

Clara threw her arms around the Doctor. Over Clara's shoulder, the Doctor saw a still figure, his back to them. The Doctor stiffened and slowly released from Clara's embrace. She turned around. "Who's that?"

"Never mind, you have the leaf. Close your eyes and go home. Go live your life - your hundreds of lives!"

"But who is he?" Clara insisted.

"He's me. There's only me here, that's the point."

"But I never saw that one. I saw all of you. Eleven faces, all of them you. You're the eleventh Doctor."

"I said he was me. I never said he was the Doctor."

"I don't understand."

The Doctor slapped his palm to his forehead. "Look, my name, my real name… that is not the point. The name I _chose_ is the Doctor. The name you choose, it's like a promise you make." The Doctor glared at the figure. "He's the one who broke the promise."

Clara gripped the leaf tightly. As she faded away, the Doctor told her, "He is my secret."

The figure spoke in a grizzled old voice, "What I did, I did without choice. In the name of peace and sanity."

The man in the bow-tie snarled, "But not in the name of the Doctor."


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's note:** The rest of this story leans heavily on a major plot point in my story "Laser Gun Wedding". It also uses a head-canon from my story "The Undying" to explain how the Doctor gets a twelfth body.

* * *

The Doctor was roused from his slumber by a familiar noise. His mind left the dreamscape and the visage of his despised past. He opened his eyes and saw the TARDIS sitting in its own air-pocket on the sandy bottom of the lake. The Apollo space suit made swimming awkward, but the Doctor managed to make it to the door of the blue box and step inside. Once inside, the Doctor eagerly took off the helmet. "Honey, I'm home!" he called out cheerfully. He waddled up the stairs to the console. "Thanks for keeping the place clean for me, Handles," he said, giving a friendly pat to the severed head of a Cyberman.

* * *

"The Doctor is dead, and River Song has been arrested for the crime, Mother Superious," reported a woman in an eye-patch.

Tasha Lem responded, "While I will never approve of your methods, Madam Kovarian, I cannot deny the results."

"Killing the Doctor was the only way to keep him from reaching Trenzalore and answering the question. How can you disapprove the trade of a few thousand lives to prevent the outbreak of a universal war?" Her mouth was tight and her face was stern.

Tasha Lem stood and paced proudly. "It is not your place to question my judgment."

"Nor is it your place to criticize my actions. You gave up that privilege when I was excommunicated."

Tasha Lem's posture became even more rigid and regal. "Where is the cadaver?" she asked.

"His companions gave him a Viking funeral. The Doctor's body is ash in the waters of Lake Silencio."

Tasha Lem let out a small chuckle, but quickly regained her stoney mien.

* * *

The Doctor wiggled out of the rest of the space suit. His clothes were singed from the pyre. "Guess it was too much to hope the suit would repair my wardrobe as well," he said as he trotted out of the console room to find clean garments. When he returned, he said, "Now, what is next on PEPA's to do list for me?" He scrolled through a check list on the monitor. "Die at the fixed point in time… Check. Leave remains on planet Trenzalore..." The Doctor furrowed his brow. "That doesn't sound fun. Let's see skip that task for now. What else is there?" He scrolled up and down the list, but next to every item there was a check mark, all except task of leaving his remains on the gloomy grave-yard planet.

"I guess I've put it off long enough," the Doctor sighed. "Very well! On to Trenzalore!"

A tone resonated from the gray and gloomy planet. A myriad of ships from different cultures had gathered and waited above the planet. The planet, as a whole, was unimportant. Yet, from one certain spot, there came a message to the universe. It was a bell tolling among the stars, ringing out to all the dark corners of creation. Everyone who could come, did. Although no one understood the message, everyone who heard it found themselves in awe.

The Doctor teleported into what appeared to be a large central room. There was only light in the center, the sides shrouded in darkness. While brandishing the weapons arm of a Dalek, the Doctor said, "I bring proof of courage and comradeship. What is this ship and why are you here?"

When there was no answer, the Doctor lowered the hood of his cloak. "Identify yourselves by species and planet of origin," he said.

Blue lights began to appear in the shadows and there was a low beeping. A parade of Daleks streamed out into the open area shouting their prime directive: Exterminate!

The Doctor shouted into his ear-bug, "Handles? Handles?" He ducked and dodged as the Daleks fired wildly. Just in time, the Doctor was teleported away.

The Doctor flung his cloak aside as he stormed up the steps to the TARDIS console. "Every ship I go on, they just shoot at me!" He ranted at the head of a Cyberman perched on the console, "Handles, I said, 'Put me on a ship.' I didn't say, 'Put me on a Dalek ship.' Don't put me on a Dalek ship, when I'm holding a broken bit of Dalek!" He smacked the metal head with the Dalek arm. It bounced off and hit him in the face, giving more pain to the Doctor than to the emotionless Cyberman.

"You did not indicate a preference," said Handles in a steady tone.

"Use your head! It's not like you've got a lot of alternatives." The Doctor carried Handles under his arm to the other side of the console. They looked at the monitor together. "They're all here," said the Doctor. "Daleks, Sontarans, Terileptils, Slitheen. And they're not even fighting, they're just parked. Why?"

The severed head of the Cyberman answered, "The message was received throughout the universe."

"Yes, yes, the message, the message. I mean, why is everyone here if they don't understand it?"

"You're here."

The Doctor was about to give a witty retort when the phone began to ring. "Oh, no," groaned the Doctor as he put Handles back on the perch. "And remind me I've got to patch the telephone back through the console unit," he said as he headed for the door. "This is getting ridiculous," he muttered.

"Attention! Information available," said Handles.

The Doctor hurried back. "Okay?" he asked expectantly.

"You must patch the telephone device back through the console unit."

"No, no. No, no, no, no. No, not now! Remind me later." He headed back to the door. The phone was still ringing.

"When?" Handles asked.

"I don't know, just later, just pick a time."

"When?"

"I don't know, just any old time. When you think I've forgotten."

"When?"

"Just pick a random number, express that number as a quantity of minutes, and when that time has elapsed, remind me to patch the telephone back through the console unit."

"Affirmative."

The Doctor opened the TARDIS door and reached outside. "How those Cyber-evenings must fly!" he said as he yanked open the small square panel the read, "Police Telephone, free for use of public." He grabbed the phone, bringing it inside. "Hello?"

"Oh! Hello," the Doctor repeated once he knew who was on the other end. "You've noticed my bright spot of blue amidst the chrome and gray have you?"

The Doctor began to stroll as he talked, the phone cord stretching to a ridiculous length. As he passed the monitor, he did a double take. Holding the phone received against his shoulder, he said, "Handles, that's a new ship. OK, we'll take the TARDIS this time." As he pressed various buttons, he turned is attention back to the phone. "Sorry, missed that last bit. Got to dash!" he said and tossed the phone away. The cord recoiled in a rapid fashion.

The Doctor stuck Handles outside the TARDIS door as a lookout and first victim. Nothing happened, so he stepped out of his time machine and into a rather sterile corridor. He walks down a corridor and, as a door slides open, he prepared to humbly greet the inhabitants. "OK, don't be alarmed, I come in..." The Doctor's voice faltered when he saw a row of Cybermen in stasis chambers. "Peace," he said quietly, realizing he was holding the severed head of Handles.

"Alert! Alert!" said a chorus of robotic voices as the Cybermen stepped free of their chambers. "Intruder detected. The intruder will be upgraded," they said as they advanced.

The Doctor apologized to Handles while he used him as a shield and retreaded to the TARDIS.

"Okay! The next time I open that door, it is because someone has an easy to solve problem. Take me to a place with an easy to solve problem," the Doctor said. He placed Handles on the TARDIS console.

"Where?" Handles asked.

"I don't really care. You and the TARDIS are both sentient machines, talk amongst yourselves. You figure it out."

***[==+}***

* * *

Clara Oswald had one job to do on Christmas morning, pick up Gran from the airport. Standing by the side of the road, gazing down at her car in the snowy ditch, Clara chastised herself. "You were in such a hurry to get to the airport and now look at you! Gran will be standing there with her luggage, wondering, waiting. Ugh! If only there were a way to call her, let her know what happened. A phone I could carry in my purse. Oh! If I had such a phone, I could call someone for a tow..." Clara shook her head and hugged herself for warmth. "No, Clara, no. Day dreaming inventions isn't going to solve this. If Gran is a modern enough woman to ride in an airplane, you are a modern enough woman to deal with this. Like you tell the girls, you can't just hope the souffle will rise, you gotta whisk." Feeling a bit more confident after her personal pep-talk, Clara looked around. "It's a Christmas miracle!" she shouted when she noticed a police call box just up the road.

The Doctor groaned when he heard the ringing yet again. However, when he opened the door to answer the phone, someone was already there.

"Oi! Who are you?" he demanded.

The brunette woman turned around. "Oh! I was just..." she returned the phone to its hook. "I'm Clara Oswald."

The Doctor said, "I can see that. Which one are you?"

"I'm not sure I understand."

"The barmaid, the nanny, the pilot..."

Clara cocked her head. "I'm a teacher?"

"Ah! The English teacher."

"No, no. I teach home economics and secretarial skills at the all girls boarding school."

"I don't believe we've met," said the Doctor. "Why were you messing with my phone?"

"Ummm … it's for public use. My car is in the ditch and my grandmother is waiting for me to pick her up at the airport."

The Doctor's eyes widened. "Oh! Oooh! You thought this was a police box! Wow… that… that hasn't happened in a long while. Well, come on in. No use staying out there getting cold."

Clara was uncertain, but followed the strange man through the doors.

Once inside, the wide-eyed brunette could only gape in silence.

"It's a space-ship!" the Doctor said proudly, "And a time machine."

"Information available!" said Handles.

Clara jumped at the robotic voice. "What's that?" she asked.

"Oh, just a bit of a Cyberman," the Doctor answered. "He'll get us to the church on time."

"I have developed a fault," Handles announced.

The Doctor explained to Clara, "The organics are all gone, but there's still a full set of data banks. Found it at the Maldovar market. Cleaned it up pretty well, if I do say so myself." He set the TARDIS in motion as he spoke. The blue box materialized in space above Trenzalore.

"Wait, did we just move?" Clara asked.

"Yes! In time and space. We're in orbit above a planet."

"I thought you said you were going to church."

"Well, more accurately, the Church is coming to us."

Handles said, "Planet identified, from analysis of message."

"Right cool, go on, then. OK, tell us, what is the planet?" the Doctor asked.

Handles responded, "Processing official designation. Processing."

The Doctor told Clara, "I know this place is called Trenzalore, but sometimes planets change names. There was this one time I thought I was on the planet Ravelox, but it turned out the Time Lords had moved the planet Earth to a different galaxy and started calling it Ravelox."

Clara felt herself beginning to panic. "I can't be in space! Gran is waiting for me at the airport! Of all the things, why does your space ship look like a police box?"

"Gallifrey," said Handles.

The Doctor turned to Handles. "What did you say?"

After a pause, Handles repeated, "Gallifrey."

The Doctor whispered, "What are you talking about? Gallifrey? What do you mean?"

The lights behind his eyes and mouth flashed as Handles spoke, "Confirmed. Planet designation: Gallifrey."


	5. Chapter 5

The Doctor yanked Handles from the stand on the TARDIS console. He brought him over to the monitor. "You see that? Gallifrey is my home, I know it when I see it. That is not Gallifrey!"

He slammed Handles back on his stand and stalked towards the door. Clara followed cautiously.

"Ummm, sir? Are you OK?" she asked.

"It's not Gallifrey. Gallifrey's gone," the Doctor said insistantly. He opened the TARDIS doors to gaze at the planet below.

"So... you're not human?"

"What? No. I'm a Time Lord from the planet Gallifrey."

"Which you are certain is not that planet down there."

"Even if it survived the Time War, it's gone from this universe. That is not my home!"

The Doctor closed the doors in frustration and disgust.

"Then why did the robot head say it was?" Clara asked.

"Handles."

"Excuse me?"

"The robot head has a name, it's Handles."

"And what is your name?"

"You can call me the Doctor."

There was a reverberating blast. Clara thought it sounded like a fog horn or a large cruise ship. "What's that?" she asked.

The Doctor strode back to the TARDIS doors and opened one. He gestured for Clara to see for herself what had made the sound. A large, many-storied ship was coming alongside the TARDIS.

The Doctor explained, "Papal Mainframe. It's like a great, big flying church. The first ship to arrive. They are the ones who shielded the planet. They can get us down there."

A hologram of a woman appeared as a projection against the ship. The Doctor bowed deeply.

"A friend of yours?" Clara asked.

"Tasha Lem, the Mother Superious," said the Doctor.

The image crooked her index finger.

The Doctor grinned. "Oh, she's inviting us aboard."

"Why?"

"Because I asked her." The Doctor blew a kiss towards the Mother Superious.

Inside the Papal Mainframe's audience chamber, there was a long walkway bearing a red carpet. Members of the church lined the walk as the Doctor and Clara Oswald make their way forward.

Clara whispered, "What is this place?"

The Doctor replied, "The Church of the Papal Mainframe - security hub of the known universe."

"A security church?"

"Yep. Keeping you safe in this world and the next!"

When they stood before Tasha Lem, the Doctor bowed low and said, "I venerate the exaltation of the Mother Superious."

Clara dropped to a nervous curtsey.

A proud man standing beside Tasha Lem said, "Welcome to the Church of the Papal Mainframe."

Tasha Lem gave a wicked smirk. "Hey, babes."

The Doctor smiled back. "Loving the frock!"

"Is that a new body?" Tasha Lem asked. "Give us a twirl!"

"Tash, this old thing?" the Doctor said as he turned in a slow circle. "Please, I've been rocking it for centuries."

"Nice though. Skin is still tight."

Clara awkwardly interjected, "So, er, hello! Also here!"

The Doctor happily made the introductions. "Clara, this is Tasha Lem, the Head of the Church of the Papal Mainframe. Mother Superious, this is my... my associate, Clara Oswald. Miss Clara Oswald."

Tasha Lem turned to the man at her side. "We'll go to my chapel," she informed him. She turned to the gathered crowd and said, "All honours in place, no sacrifices required."

Clara followed the Doctor and the Mother Superious down a cozy hallway. This was unlike any church she'd ever been to. Tasha Lem looked more like a model from a risque couture magazine than the leader of a holy organization.

"It was Tasha who shielded the planet," the Doctor said to Clara. "But you could sneak me down there, couldn't you, Tash?"

Tasha Lem replied, "I would have conditions."

They stopped outside a set of double doors. "I have confidential matters to discuss with the Doctor. Would you... excuse us?"

The Doctor said, "Anything you have to say to me, you can say in front of Clara."

Mother Superious gave him a withering look. The Doctor amended, "Well... quite a lot of it. Probably about half, maybe a smidge... under. Actually, Clara, would you mind waiting out here?"

Clara was too baffled by it all to object. Tasha opened the door to her chambers. She and the Doctor left Clara alone in the corridor, shutting the doors tight.

Clara began to stroll down the hall. Suddenly, she saw an alien. A real alien, like the ones in the comics, with a big head and long creepy fingers. Yet he was dressed like a vicar. Clara gasped and froze as the alien silently approached her.

She hesitantly called for the Doctor, but he couldn't hear.

The Doctor gazed upon piece of furniture that he couldn't tell if it was an altar or a bed. He felt the table cloth, and there seemed to be a mattress underneath. He concluded it was a bed and, finding no chairs in the room, too a seat.

"Excuse me," Tasha Lem said as she reached past the Doctor and pressed a button in one of the bed-posts. The message from the planet was repeating on loop.

"That message," Tasha Lem said slowly, "Is transmitting through all of space and time. What did it make you feel?" She sat down next to the Doctor.

"Feel?" the Doctor repeated, standing.

"Every sentient being in the universe who detected that signal felt something. Something overpowering."

"What?" the Doctor asked hoarsely.

"Fear. Pure, unadulterated dread," Tasha Lem said in a deep voice.

The Doctor hastily walked away from the Mother Superious. "Right, what's the signal, where's it coming from?"

"It's a settlement. Human colony, level 2. A farm, basically."

"Right. Anyone been for a look?" the Doctor asked.

The bed stood between them like a giant business table.

Tasha leaned forward, and told him, "Any one ship lands, the rest will follow, there will be bloodshed. Fortunately we got here first, shielded the planet. We maintain the truce, by blocking all of them."

The Doctor leaned in and said, "Daleks, Cybermen, any one of that lot, could break through your defenses."

"Perhaps. But they're afraid, remember? Nobody wants to go first."

The Doctor said breathlessly, "I do."

Tasha Lem replied, "I was counting on it."

Suddenly, Clara burst into the room. She was out of breath, as if she had been running from something.

Tasha Lem and the Doctor looked up at Clara's entrance. "Are you OK?" the Doctor asked.

Clara could not remember what had given her such a fright. Embarrassed, she said, "Fine. Yeah, fine. Sorry."

Tasha Lem walked over to what looked like an ornate confessional with bright red curtains. "This is my personal teleport" she said. "I can put you down just outside the town. Find the source of the message and report back to me in one hour."

The Doctor entered one of the cubicles as Tasha Lem held open the curtain. "And on your life, Doctor, you will cause no trouble down there."

"When do I?" said the Doctor, closing the curtain. He quickly opened it again to say, "Don't answer that."

Tasha Lem sighed and opened the curtain. She held out her hand.

"What?" whined the Doctor.

"I'm not an idiot. Give now. You are taking no technology of any kind down there."

"What can I do with a key?" he asked. He looked to Clara and ordered, "You. in. now."

"You could summon your TARDIS," Tasha Lem said, still holding out her hand.

"Fine, if it makes you feel any better, there we are," the Doctor said. He removed a key on a chain from around his neck and handed it to the Mother Superious.

Satisfied, she nodded and walked over to the controls. She said, "Remember. I want you back in one hour."

The Doctor and Clara arrived on the planet in a flash of light. It was cold and snowy. It was the second time that day that Clara regretted not dressing for chilly weather.

The Doctor said, "So, sweet little town covered in snow, half the universe in terror. Why? Why?"

The two of them looked around. Clara noticed an arm sticking out of the snow.

"Oh, my God!" Clara said. "There's something under the snow, it's..." she walked towards the arm to get a closer look.

"What is it?" the Doctor asked, following Clara.

Clara reached out and touched the hand. "It's cold," she said. She laughed at herself, "It's stone. It's just stone. It's only a statue."

"Clara, step away from it!" the Doctor instructed.

Clara gasped as the hand grasped her around the ankle.

"Clara, keep looking at it, don't look away!" said the Doctor, rushing to her side. "Don't even... blink!" "What is it?" Clara asked, terrified.

"There is a Weeping Angel under the snow. Looks like a statue - isn't a statue. Can you get your foot out?"

"Only if I get it out of my shoe."

"OK, just pull, hard!"

Clara grunted with effort, "I'm trying!"

The Doctor counted, "One, two, three!" And with a heave, they successfully freed Clara's foot and began to tumble down a snow-covered slope. They landed in a small clearing surrounded by Weeping Angels. As they looked around, the Angels began to move.

"They're climbing out of the snow. Oh, God!" said Clara.

The Doctor quickly moved so that he and Clara stood back to back. "Keep looking at them. At all of them."

"Why?"

The Doctor hurriedly explained, "Quantum-locked life-form - it can only move if it's unobserved."

"What are they doing here?" Clara asked.

"Well, it is a grave-yard planet. Can't be too hard to sneak in a thing disguised as a tomb-topper. Keep looking!"

"I can't. I can't see - the snow's in my eyes," Clara cried.

"I just need to bring the TARDIS down. I just need it to home in on the key."

Clara protested, "But she took your key!"

The Doctor reached around to the back of his head. "She took one of them!" he said as he unzipped a secret pocket in his hair. He pulled out the TARDIS key; and in the process, he tore off his floppy brown locks to reveal his shaved head. Clara gasped and covered her mouth with one hand while she pointed at the Doctor with the other. The key glowed and the TARDIS materialized around them.

The Doctor chuckled, "The old key in the quiff routine. Classic!" He set the wig on top of Handles and worked the controls. "OK, homing in on the mysterious message. Ooh, yes, I like that - the mysterious message."

"What other parts of you just come off?" Clara demanded.

"What?"

"Are you hiding an extra set of limbs under your coat? A tufted tail?"

"No! No! Extra heart, larger capacity brain, allergy to inhaled anesthetics..."

Clara pulled the wig off the Cyberman's head and threw it at the Doctor. "Put it back on," she said.

"Why?"

"Your ears are like rocket fins."

The Doctor beamed with pride, "I know!"

The TARDIS materialized in the well plowed street of a quaint town. The Doctor and Clara stepped outside, better dressed for the chilly weather. The Doctor carried Handles like a lantern. There were lit trees lining the road, but it was still unexpectedly dark for the middle of the day.

"Now, what do we make of this place?" said the Doctor as he scanned the area with his sonic screwdriver. "It's two o'clock in the afternoon, must be very short days here. The message is coming from that tower," he said, pointing to a clock tower in the distance.

Clara alerted the Doctor to a man and woman walking towards them.

"Right, we're a couple from the next town. My name's probably Hank or Rock, something like that."

"Or Daisy?"

"Shut up," whispered the Doctor. He loudly greeted the couple, "Hello, good to meet you, nice snow."

The man replied jovially, "Most pleasant to meet you too," and shook the Doctor's hand.

"Most pleasant. Most pleasant," said the woman.

"I'm the Doctor. I'm a Time Lord from the planet Gallifrey. I stole a time machine and ran away and I've been flouting the principal law of my own people ever since." The Doctor was startled by the words that had just left his mouth. "That wasn't quite what I was meant to say!"

Clara said, "I'm a teacher from planet Earth, and I've been captured by this a man from space, but I'm not complaining because I really fancy -" Clara slapped her hand over her mouth before she could say any more.

The couple chuckled warmly. The woman said, "I think, perhaps, you should stop talking till you get used to it."

"Used to what?" asked the Doctor.

The woman asked, "What did you say your name was?"

Clara blurted, "Bubbly personality masking bossy control freak!"

"I'm wearing a wig!" said the Doctor. He covered his mouth and muttered, "No, ah, I see." He removed his hand and turned to Clara. "It's a truth field. Oh, that is so quaint. I haven't seen a truth field in years! I'm wearing a wig!"

The man explained, "No-one can lie in this town. Especially this close to the tower." The couple nodded politely continued on their stroll.

The Doctor called after them, "Doesn't that make life a bit difficult?"

They answered simultaneously. The woman said, "Not at all," and the man said, "Yes."

"This town, what's it called?" the Doctor asked.

"It's Christmas," answered the man.

"It's July," said the Doctor.

"It was Christmas when you picked me up!" Clara said.

The woman smiled and said, "No, the town. The town is Christmas, that's what it's called."

"Be happy here. Be well," said the man. The couple turned away and walked silently through the snow.

"How can a town be called Christmas?" Clara asked.

The Doctor replied, "I don't know, how can an island be called Easter? Maybe it's just nice here. I almost hate to find out what's wrong."


	6. Chapter 6

As they continued to walk towards the tower, Clara tried to strike up a conversation. "Well," she said, "those were the most cheerful morticians I've ever seen."

"How do you know they're morticians?" asked the Doctor.

"You said this was a grave-yard planet. I suppose they could be coffin makers or florists or something."

The Doctor gave a small frown and licked his lips. "Clara, are you feeling alright? Any strange visions? Memory flashes?"

"Memories of what?" Clara asked.

The Doctor sighed. Clara thought he sounded a bit disappointed. "Don't worry about it," the Doctor said.

The clock tower was part of a small church. The Doctor lead Clara to the basement where he finally found what he had been seeking.

"There you are. What took you so long?" the Doctor said to a glowing crack in the wall. He set Handles down on a pile of blankets and gingerly approached the wall. The Doctor's hand trembled as it ran over the crack.

"What's wrong? It's only a crack in the wall," said Clara.

She did not realize that it was not just any crack, but the same crack that had been in Amelia Pond's room.

"I knew. I always knew it wasn't over," the Doctor said.

"What is it?" Clara asked.

"A split in the skin of reality. A tiny sliver of the 26th of June, 2010. The day the universe blew up."

Clara guffawed. "Well, that's something to look forward to when I'm ninety."

The Doctor explained, "I rebooted it, put it all back together."

"That's good."

The Doctor began to pace. "It was my TARDIS that blew it up in the first place," he said. "I felt a degree of responsibility. But the scar tissue remains. A structural weakness in the whole universe." He rested his hand on the crack once more, then stumbled back as if shocked. "Whoa! And someone's trying to get through it, from outside our universe, from somewhere else." The Doctor pressed his ear against the wall. "Of course, of course. It makes sense," he murmured.

"It does?" asked Clara, keeping her distance.

"Yes. If you tried to break through a wall, you'd choose the weakest spot. To break into this universe, you'd choose this crack, because... No. If you were trying to break back into this universe." The Doctor turned to Handles. "You said Gallifrey," he said as he scooped up the Cyberman head. "Why did you say Gallifrey?"

Handles answered, "Analysis of message composition indicates Gallifreyan origin, according to TARDIS data banks."

"You said Gallifrey was gone," said Clara.

The Doctor corrected her, "No. I said it was in another universe. The message is coming through here. The truth field is too, at a guess. If it's the Time Lords... If it's the Time Lords..."

The tone begans to resonate again. The Doctor turned and looked at Clara. "I know why Tasha Lem didn't want the TARDIS down on the planet."

"Why?" asked Clara.

"The TARDIS has a translator field, it allows my companions and I to understand everyone and for everyone to understand us. Some languages take longer to decode than others."

Handles spoke, "Message decoding. Warning – translation will be available to all life-forms in range. Translation follows..."

The tone turned into a deep voice repeating the same two words over and over, "Doctor who... Doctor who... Doctor who..."

The Doctor leaned against the wall. He said to Clara, "A question only I could answer. A truth field to make sure I'm not lying. If I give my name, they'll know they've found the right place... and that it's safe to come through."

Clara tilted her head. "The Time Lords? OK, so what then?" she asked, "If you answer the question, and they come back, what happens?"

The Doctor fiddled in his pockets and pulled out a tarnished bronze and yellow gadget. "Ah, you need to take this to the TARDIS and put it in the charger slot for the sonic," he said as he pressed the small cylinder into her hands.

"Why?"

"Hell. All hell, that's what happens if the Time Lords come back. There's half a universe up there already, waiting to open fire. Now, please, go to the TARDIS, and just do as I say!"

Clara ran from the room.

A projection of the Mother Superious appeared in the cloudy sky above the church. Tasha Lem's voice boomed, "Doctor, speak with me."

Clara stopped in her tracks to gaze up at the giant image in the sky. The inhabitants of the town gathered to watch.

Tasha Lem commanded, "Doctor! Face me now!"

Clara ran to the TARDIS.

The Doctor reached the top of the belfry and looked out at the projection of Tasha Lem.

"If you speak your name, the Time Lords will return," said Tasha Lem.

"If they return, they will come in peace," the Doctor insisted.

"It doesn't matter. They will be met with a war that will never end. The Time War will begin anew! You know that, Doctor!"

Inside the TARDIS, Clara leaned against the console. She wasn't sure what the gadget was supposed to do, or even if she had put it in the right slot the correct way. However, when she heard a metallic thrumming, she was sure whatever clever plan the Doctor had was complete. She ran to the double doors and rushed outside. She halted when she realized she was no longer on Trenzalore. She was in an airport parking lot. She turned back to the TARDIS as she heard it begin to dematerialize. "No, don't you dare. No, no!" she shouted as she struggled to reopen the disappearing blue box. "Gran can wait!"

The Doctor shouted, "They're asking for my help!"

Tasha Lem replied, "And if you give it, war will be the consequence. I will not that let that happen at any cost. Speak your name and this world will burn!"

"No, this planet is protected," said the Doctor. He pointed his sonic screwdriver at the bell on top of the clock tower. The bell began to toll. He quickly headed back down the stairs to stand on the steps of the church. The people gathered to learn why the bells were tolling.

"So, you lot, a quick word, thank you. Spot of news, Christmas has a new sheriff. Hello, everyone, I'm the Doctor."

Inside the Papal Mainframe, Tasha Lem walks onto the dais to make a formal announcement. "Attention. Attention all Chapels and Choirs of the Papal Mainframe. The siege of Trenzalore is now begun. There will now be an unscheduled faith change. From this moment on, I dedicate this church to one cause: Silence. The Doctor will not speak his name, and war will not begin. Silence... will… fall!"

The clerics and representatives repeated, "Silence will fall. Silence will fall."

In the airport, Clara found her grandmother dozing across a bank of seats. Clara gently shook her awake.

"Gran! I am so sorry I'm late," she said.

Gran looked up from her book. "Late? Hardly. The plane landed ahead of schedule. I expected my nap to last so much longer… or did I get lost in my dream? What time is it?"

Clara laughed, "I honestly have no idea."

"Well, regardless of the time, why spend it here? Help me with my bags. Where did you park the car?"

Clara sputtered for a bit. Finally she answered, "My car is in a ditch. I'm not sure how, I mean exactly how, I got here."

Gran settled back into the chair. "Do you know what I was dreaming about?"

Clara chose a seat next to her. "No, Gran. Tell me."

"I was dreaming of this tower of white light pouring out of a beautiful gemstone. I step into the light and I feel myself living a thousand different lives." She sighed happily and turned to her granddaughter. "Do you ever have dreams like that, Clara?"

Clara whispered, "How did you know?"

Gran smiled. "I also know how you got here without your car. You stepped inside a police box, didn't you?"

"What?" Clara said, with a nervous laugh.

"Has anyone told you how you look like me? If I were 60 years younger, we'd be twins."

Clara sat next to her grandmother. In a quiet voice, she said, "The Doctor is on a distant planet in a stand-off between the Time Lords, the Papal Mainframe, and… and everyone else."

The old woman sighed. She said, "And you have the strong urge that you must save him, am I right?"

"What do I do, Gran?"

"Just sit patiently. When you're truly needed, you won't fail to do your part. For now, the Papal Mainframe will maintain the peace between the Doctor and his enemies."

In Christmas, the townspeople went about their business unaware of aliens in their midst. The Sontarans were the most persistent. They managed to create an invisible vehicle, unfortunately, they could not conceal the tracks it made in the snow. "We remain undetectable to the Papal Mainframe," a Sontaran said to his co-driver just before an alarm began to ring.

"Commander Skarr! That's the detection warning. Our invisibility cloak is compromised."

"What's wrong with it?" Skarr asked.

"I don't know, I can't see it."

Skarr shrugged. "Well, it looks invisible to me," he said.

There was a thud and the Sontarans looked at each other nervously. Seconds later, their vehicle exploded. A loud recorded voice said, "The Church of the Papal Mainframe apologizes for your death. The relevant afterlives have been notified."

In the basement of the church, the Doctor sat back in an old chair. Handles was propped on a desk covered with gadgets and toys. Tasha Lem appeared by the Doctor's side, "Oh, Doctor, fixing toys and fighting monsters, so like you..."

The Doctor gave a small smile, he had aged considerably but the fire-light masked it. "Tasha Lem, waging peace throughout the galaxy."

Tasha Lem looked at the glowing crack in the far wall. "Is it still asking the question?"

"Oh, never stops," the Doctor replied.

Tasha Lem took a seat across from the Doctor. "You can't go on like this, Doctor. The Sontarans keep finding ways to break through."

"Yes! Those bellicose spud heads. They missed out on the action in the Time War. They're determined not to miss it again."

"This situation cannot continue," Tasha Lem insisted.

The Doctor said, "It can't end either."

"Why did you ever come to Trenzalore?" she asked.

"Well, I did come to Trenzalore, and nothing can change that now." The Doctor stood slowly. He pointed his cane at the Mother Superious. "Didn't stop you trying, though, did it?"

Tasha Lem replied, "Not me. The Kovarian Chapter broke away. They traveled back along your timeline and tried to prevent you ever reaching Trenzalore."

"So that's who blew up my TARDIS. I thought I'd left the bath running." The Doctor shuffled over to his work table and picked up Handles. He began to gently polish the robotic head.

Tasha Lem said, "Yes, they blew up your time capsule, created one of the very cracks in the universe through which the Time Lords are now calling."

The Doctor said smugly, "The destiny trap. You can't change history if you're part of it."

"They engineered a psychopath to kill you."

"Totally married her. I'd never have made it here alive without River Song," the Doctor said, glancing over at a dusty yet otherwise well preserved NASA spacesuit.

Tasha leaned forward. "I am not interested in changing history, Doctor. I want to change the future."

The Doctor shook his head. "Your future is someone else's past. I've seen my future. This planet is supposed to hold my tomb. By the order of the Paradox Prevention and Eradication Agency, this is the place I rest my corpse." He turned his attention to Handles, "Right, there you go, buddy. Comfy?" Handles responded, "Comfort is irrelevant."

The Doctor adjusted the Cyberman's head. "How's that, is that better?"

"Affirmative," Handles answered.

"You just take it easy, buddy," the Doctor said, patting Handles gently. The Doctor shuffled back to his seat by the fire. "He's getting old. I do my best for him, but... I just can't get the parts, you know. Hey, I know the feeling."

"But you don't die," said Tasha Lem. "You change. You pop right back up with a new face."

"No, not forever. I can change 12 times. 13 versions of me. 13 silly Doctors," he said as he leaned back in his chair and propped up his feet.

Tasha tilted her head. "Okay, so you're number eleven. Why come to Trenzalore now?"

"Are we forgetting Captain Grumpy, eh? I didn't call myself the Doctor during the Time War, but it was still a regeneration."

"So, you're number twelve."

"Number ten once regenerated and kept the same face - I had vanity issues at the time. Twelve regenerations, Tasha. I can't ever do it again. This is where I end up."

Tasha Lem shook her head. "Don't give me that load of malarkey!" she said as she snatched the slipper off his foot. On his toe was a yellow tag. "The Rani gave you Aliavix. You cannot be certain how many lives you will have."

The Doctor said, "But I can be. Clara jumped into my time stream. She saw twelve faces. This face - this version of me, was the last face." The Doctor sighed and stared into the fire.

"Promise me something, Tasha."

"What is it?"

"If I become a zombie..."

Tasha Lem interrupted, "Don't even joke about that!"

Handles announced, "I have developed a fault."

The Doctor went to his work table. "Hey, don't you worry, Handles, you're just dreaming. The sun's coming up very soon, you just hang on in there."

Handles stuttered, "I have de-developed a... fault. I...I have developed a fault."

"Hey, Handles. Come on. Come on. One more dawn, you can do it. You've got it in you. Come on, just hang on in there," said the Doctor, hurrying to his friend's side.

Handles said, "Attention! Emergency! Urgent action required! You must patch the telephone device back through the... console... unit." The light behind his mouth and eyes flickered and faded.

The Doctor shook Handles. "Come back. Handles? Handles..." The Doctor sighed and bowed his head. "Thank you, Handles, and well done. Well done, mate," he said, and set Handles back down.

Tasha Lem put a comforting hand on the Doctor's shoulder and handed back his slipper. "The Papal Mainframe will build your tomb."


	7. Chapter 7

Clara hung up the pay phone with a disappointed sigh.

"Dad will try to get here as soon as he can," Clara told her grandmother. "But, it's going to be awhile."

Gran said, "Don't fret about it, dear. Christmas is Christmas when we celebrate it."

"We could have a little celebration just now. I needed coins for the phone, so I bought a couple of crackers at the stall."

Clara handed Gran a Christmas cracker wrapped with bright paper. The old woman smiled.

Gran said, "A bit of gift-giving, too eh? I just finished knitting it on the plane, you can save me the trouble of wrapping it." She handed Clara her knitting bag.

Clara pulled out a striped scarf from the knitting bag. She began to thank her grandmother for the lovely gift, but the scarf just kept going, fold after fold. She laughed, "It's twice as long as I am tall!"

This was hardly an exaggeration. As she tried it on, she said, "It looks oddly familiar."

Gran read a slip of paper. She mumbled, "These crackers are rubbish."

"Well, I did get them from an airport shop."

"I know. They've got poems."

"Silly limericks and such?"

"No, those'd be grand."

Clara stuffed the crackers she'd gotten for herself into her pocket. "Tell me a story. I know! The one about how you met Grampa. That thing with the pigeon."

"I saw him on a pier on a rainy day," Gran said in a dreamy voice.

Clara shook her head. "Not that one! The one about the pigeon."

Gran continued with a far-off look, "I'd seen him before, lots of times. But he just looked so beautiful standing there… I wanted everything to stop. I wanted nothing to change ever again. If he could just keep standing there, so beautiful..." Gran gently fingered her wedding ring. She said softly, "A long time ago..."

Clara found herself crying and hugged her grandmother.

"Don't hug me so tight, dear, you'll break something," Gran said.

Suddenly, a exotic yet familiar sound echoed through the airport. Several people hurried to the windows, wondering what strange and bizarre plane had come in for a landing. Gran smiled. "I told you so, Clara," she said.

Clara hurried to the parking lot and found the TARDIS. She eagerly ran inside it, but stopped short when she saw who was standing at the controls. It was Tasha Lem.

"You can fly the TARDIS?" Clara asked.

Tasha Lem replied, "Flying the TARDIS was always easy. It was flying the Doctor I never quite mastered."

"What's happened to him?"

The TARDIS materialized in a street filled with burning rubble. Clara and Tasha Lem stepped out. Clara was stunned by the burning buildings, the sounds of distant wailing, and the air filled with ashes and sparks instead of snow.

Tasha Lem explained, "The Daleks grew tired of waiting. A preemptive strike, you could say."

Clara asked, "What am I supposed to do?"

"He shouldn't die alone. Go to him," the Mother Superious instructed. She pointed to the place where the clock tower had been. Then she left.

Clara looked towards the clock tower. It its place was a tremendous blue police box. She walked towards it slowly, yet determined, as the last of the townsfolk fled.

Clara made her way down the stairs to the basement. The walls were still covered with drawings, new covering old. She found an old man whittling a toy by the light flowing from a crack in the wall.

"Barnable?" the old man asked.

"Clara," Clara said, stepping forward. "The home economics teacher."

The old man dropped the toy and turned around to look at Clara. He was certainly the Doctor, but he looked so much older.

"Hello, Doctor," Clara said.

"Were you always so young?" he asked.

"Nah. That was you," said Clara.

Outside, Daleks were patrolling the streets chanting, "Seek the Doctor!" but Clara and the Doctor heard none of that.

"Merry Christmas," Clara whispered.

"Merry Christmas," the Doctor replied.

Clara knelt down in front of the elderly man and handed him one end of the cracker she had pulled from her deep pocket. He was too feeble to pull it.

"Hey, it's okay," Clara said, putting her hand atop of his and pulling the cracker open. It made a little pop and a scrap of paper fluttered to the floor. The Doctor grinned.

"Is there a joke?" the Doctor asked.

Clara read, "Extract from 'Thoughts On A Clock' by Eric Ritchie Jr."

The Doctor settled back in his chair. "Is it a knock-knock one? Those are best."

Clara rested her head on his knee. "I don't think so," she said.

"Well, read it. Go on."

Clara read, "And now it's time for one last bow, Like all your other selves. Eleven's hour is over now. The clock is striking Twelve's."

"I don't get it," the Doctor said.

A Dalek bellowed, "Doctor! The Doctor will be brought!" and a Dalek ship appeared in the sky above the bell tower turned TARDIS monument. "The Daleks demand the Doctor!" the hideous voice shouted.

A young man came running into the room. "They're here. The Daleks, we can't stop them. They want you," he said to the Doctor.

The Doctor sighed, "Oh, all right, Barnable. Are you Barnable?"

"No, Doctor."

"It's okay, Barnable, don't worry. I have got a plan. Off you pop."

The young man looked hesitantly at Clara, but then ran off. Clara could hear rumbling outside.

The Doctor said, "I haven't got a plan, but people love it when I say that." He reached for his cane and slowly stood.

"Doctor, what are you going to do?"

"Oh, I don't know. Talk very fast, hope something good happens, take the credit. That's generally how it works." He headed for the stairs.

At the foot of the stairs, he stopped, struck by a thought. "Not this time, though," he said to Clara, "This is it."

"No!" Clara said tearfully.

"Yes. We saw the future, Clara. This is how it ends." Then he began to climb the stairs. "The trouble with Daleks is, they take so long to say anything. Probably die of boredom before they shoot me."

He heard the Dalek leader say, "The Doctor is required!"

"Sorry, I'm a bit slow," the Doctor replied. "I may not be at my best right now."

"You are dying, Doctor."

"Yes... I'm dying. You've been trying to kill me for centuries, and here I am, dying of old age. If you want something done, do it yourself."

Suddenly, a small set of Daleks from the ground aimed and shot at the Doctor. "Exterminate!" they cried.

The Doctor accepted the hit, his skeleton flashing green before he stumbled into the door-frame and collapsed. As the Doctor tumbled down the stairs, he heard the Dalek say, "You will die now, Doctor. This is the end of you. The rules of regeneration are known. You have expended all your lives. You will die, and the Time Lords will never return."

Then, to the Doctor's great surprise, he began emitting a yellow light.

"No! No! That's not how it should happen!" he said as he crawled towards the stairs. He tumbled down the stairs towards the basement. "Clara! The suit! The astronaut space suit!" he called out in a hoarse voice.

Clara was very confused. She supposed he meant the white diving suit in the corner of the workshop. With some difficulty, she lugged it over to him. "You mean this thing?" she asked.

The Doctor nodded. "Help me into it," he said.

As Clara struggled to help the frail, glowing man into the bizarre costume, Tasha Lem teleported into the room.

"The Daleks are leaving," she announced. "What have you done?"

Clara explained, "The Doctor said he's regenerating… and that it's a bad thing."

"Helmet, too," the Doctor instructed.

Tasha Lem gasped, "The Kovarian transformation suit."

"Nice isn't it? Wedding gift from River Song," the Doctor said with a wink.

"Doctor? What are you doing? Why not just regenerate?" Tasha Lem begged.

"Eleven faces, that's all Clara saw. I must not regenerate. I must find a way to die here, to leave my twisted time line behind. If I don't, the paradox..." the Doctor's head hurt just thinking about it. He held out his hand so Clara could give him the helmet.

Tasha Lem stepped between them. "Who cares about a paradox?"

The Doctor scoffed, "Hah! Leave it to the Head of the Church to say something like that." He explained, "A paradox epicenter this close to a crack in time… it isn't worth the risk. Clara, help me! You're existence depends on it. Tasha doesn't know the future; we do!"

It was then that Clara noticed it, the giant gemstone pendant Tasha Lem was wearing. She handed the helmet to the Doctor, but all her attention was on the gemstone she had seen in her dreams. "Mother Superious, that gemstone, what does it do?" Clara asked.

For a moment, Tasha Lem considered lying, but Clara's eyes were so piercing, she couldn't help but tell the truth. "An ancient relic, it's called a soul-tapper."

"Doctor, remove your glove," Clara instructed. "Give the gemstone to him."

Tasha Lem's eyes widened. "I see," she whispered as she removed her necklace. She said to the Doctor, "Grip this tightly. You may want to take a seat first."

The Doctor fell to his knees upon wrapping his fist around the gemstone. It wasn't apparent why, the space helmet hid is face. Slowly, white light came snaking out of the Doctor's fist. Clara and Tasha Lem stood together, watching the light branch and twist in upon itself.

"Clara, look!" said Tasha Lem. "The crack, it is closing. The Time Lords have conceded." She knelt down and murmured, "Doctor, you can let go now."

The Doctor's hand opened and the gemstone fell to the floor. The Doctor fell onto his side, exhausted.

"Is he… dead?" Clara asked.

"Not exactly," Tasha Lem answered.

"What's in there?"

"A body that is in the middle of regenerating, and enough memories to form a new Doctor, the Twelfth Doctor."

"Is there no longer a paradox?"

"I wouldn't know. It is something in this planet's future. What I do know is that this place is now far too precious and far too dangerous to be in a town called Christmas."

"Christmas!" Clara said. "My Gran!"

"My clerics will evacuate the town and modify the tomb accordingly. If you'll permit, I shall return you to your proper place in time."

"What about him?" Clara asked nodding towards the motionless spacesuit resting by the pillar of light.

"Let him rest," said Tasha Lem.

On the floor of the TARDIS was a trail of the Doctor's cast-off clothing. A bowl of custard with fish fingers sticking out of it had been left on the console. The Doctor climbed up the set of stairs from below the console. He smiled when he saw Clara Oswald.

"Doctor!" Clara said with a smile.

"Hello," said the Doctor.

"You're young again. You're okay. You didn't even change your face."

"Ha! It's started. I can't stop it now," the Doctor said. "This is just the reset. Whole new regeneration cycle…" he picked up the bowl off the console and slurped. He continued, "... taking a bit longer. Just breaking it in." He walked on shaky legs around the console. The TARDIS went into motion at the pull of a lever. "It all just disappears, doesn't it? Everything you are, gone in a moment, like breath on a mirror. Any moment now, he's a-coming."

Clara asked, "Who's coming?"

"The Doctor."

"You... you are the Doctor," Clara said confused.

The Doctor bent over in pain. He groaned, "Yep... and I always will be." He took a deep breath. "But times change... and so must I."

The Doctor heard child giggle. He saw a red-haired girl, dressed for travel, run past him. "Amelia?" he said.

Clara looked around, but saw no one. "Who's Amelia?"

"The first face this face saw. We all change... when you think about it. We're all different people all through our lives. And that's OK, that's good, you've got to keep moving, so long as you remember all the people that you used to be. I will not forget one line of this. Not one day. I swear. I will always remember when the Doctor was me."

The Doctor looked as the little girl became a woman with dark nail polish and a wedding ring. She gently put her hand on his cheek. The Doctor heard Amy say, "Raggedy man... Good night."

She disappeared and the Doctor was left holding his hand in the air. Clara took a step forward, concerned. The Doctor pulled off his bow tie. He held it in front of him for a moment before letting it drop to the floor.

Clara tearfully said, "No, no. Please don't change."

For a moment, the Doctor was puzzled. If anyone should be comfortable with him changing, it should be the Impossible Girl. However, before he could give it another thought, a new mind and a new body snapped into place.

The Doctor regenerated into an older man, a pale skinned human appearing to be roughly 50 years old. Clara backed away. The Doctor stepped closer until he and Clara were eye-to-eye. There was another swooshing sound and the Doctor stumbled backwards, clutching his middle.

"Kidneys!" the Doctor announced. "I've got new kidneys. I don't like the color."

"Of your kidneys? What's happening?"

The TARDIS started shuddering. "We're probably crashing!" the Doctor said.

"Into what?" Clara asked in a panic.

The Doctor replied, "Stay calm. Just one question. Do you happen to know how to fly this thing?"

* * *

 **Author's note:** The next (and final) bit is an epilogue. It is not part of the story proper. I just thought that if I was filling in plot holes and tying up loose ends, I might as well go for it.


	8. Epilogue

The Doctor lay motionless in the astronaut suit. Beside him was a column of brilliant white light, his time-line. The time-line twisted and hovered above the soul-tapping gemstone Tasha Lem had left behind. This was the scene the agents of PEPA found.

"Is he dead?" asked one agent.

"Nah, Chimes, he's not dead. Didn't you read the briefing?"

"What I read, Agent Tock, was that we had to move quickly and could afford no mistakes. Soon this place will be full of Papal Mainframe clerics making this place an homage to the TARDIS and adding an entrance code."

Agent Tock sighed then explained. "The gemstone extracted 76 percent of the Doctor's life story. Enough to make a viable time-line for the Great Intelligence and companion Clara Oswald to jump into and become cosmic. We are not to touch that."

"Right! We're supposed to secure the space-suit with the regenerating Doctor inside." Agent Chimes began to unload the duffle bag of gadgets and set up teleportation spires around the space-suit.

"And do not wake him up," Agent Tock reminded Agent Chimes. "The Librarian said there was something very important about letting the Doctor continue to dream."

Agent Chimes said, "Okay, radio agent Tick, we are ready for teleportation."

The Secretary and the Librarian nervously awaited for the agents to complete their part of the mission.

"And you are sure, absolutely sure that this will prevent the only 12 regenerations paradox?" the Secretary asked.

The Librarian answered, "It is the best way. Most other scenarios, the Time Lords become rulers of life and death as well..."

"It was lucky you found that research on ancient relics, Brarian. A soul-tapping gemstone and personality extracting crystal shards."

The Librarian smirked. "Oh, Tary… You'd be surprised what mother nature can create when she knows the universe is at stake. There are 20 different types of alien technology inside that space-suit, and I made sure that a few of them would suit our purposes."

"I wish Dream Weaver would call already," Secretary said, resisting the urge to start nail-biting.

"Dream Weaver will call when the Doctor has been properly connected to the device."

Just as they were speaking, the Dream Weaver appeared on the communication screen.

"Ah! We were just talking about you," the Librarian said.

"Everything is going well, I hope?" said the Secretary.

Weaver answered, "It is a delicate process. The mind that is forming is sharp. The Doctor has dealt with psychic pollen before, not to mention the head-games of talented Time Lords. He must never catch-on that this is a dream."

"I have great confidence in you, Weaver."

"Thank you, Brarian."

"The crystal shards, are they changing color?" asked Tary.

Weaver glanced over, then replied, "Almost as fast as my lab assistants can change them out." He mused, "Creating an amalgamation of all the Doctor's worst traits… I am surprised you two would ask me to do such a thing."

The Secretary said, "You think it's evil."

"If you simply wanted to purge an influential being of his darker inclinations, I could understand. This is different. You are deliberately designing a villain."

The Secretary shook her head. She explained, "We are not in charge of eliminating evil, or even of judging it. We are in charge of balancing the books."


End file.
